


Friday Nights

by laurenwrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenwrites/pseuds/laurenwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were three things Enjolras hated about student life: loud music, obnoxious drunks and dancing. He was currently in a place that encompassed all three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on an anonymous prompt left in my ask box on Tumblr: 
> 
> 'hello, i saw you were taking e/R prompts and what would you think about a modern!au with one of them playing in a band and the other one always coming to their only moderately popular gigs? you choose who's doing what! i hope this is some kind of helpful inspiration. have a nice day, hun! <3' 
> 
> Thank you to the kind anon who inspired this, and I hope this is entertaining!

There were three things Enjolras hated about student life: loud music, obnoxious drunks and dancing. He was currently in a place that encompassed all three.

How he’d been persuaded to join Courfeyrac and the rest of the _Amis_ on their Friday night outing was really beyond him. Enjolras would rather be at home, away from the maddening chaos of the _Musain_ – maybe catching up on some light reading or watching a movie or two. Quite frankly, he’d rather be _anywhere_ other than here.  He only wished he could say the same of Courf, Jehan and Bahorel, who were most likely having the time of their lives.

It didn’t take long to pick out Jehan, a bouncing mess of hair and floral print currently twisting on the dance floor next to an enthusiastic Courfeyrac. Enjolras stifled his own laughter as he took a sip of his non-alcoholic wine. He suddenly wished for the simple black coffee he often ordered at the _Musain_ during the day, but they’d long since stopped serving their day-time menu. He was sure Eponine would have been able to slip him a caffeine fix but she was currently chatting up her long-time crush, Marius. He almost groaned aloud; that was definitely a lost cause.

‘Ah, Enjolras! Here again, I see?’ 

Enjolras frowned from behind his glasses, recognising the voice instantly. _Grantaire._ He grinned back at him, guitar in hand as he readied himself for the stage. His band was currently setting up equipment; something that Grantaire was apparently immune from. The red knit hat over his messy black curls irritated Enjolras. _What_ _kind of person wears a hat indoors?_

‘Unfortunately so.’ Enjolras paused, a subtle smile of annoyance on his lips. ‘Jehan and Courf needed a responsible adult.’

‘And that couldn’t have been Bahorel?’ Grantaire tipped his head, his whole being exuding sarcasm. Enjolras felt entertained for the first time in two hours, it was definitely a relief.

‘If you can point out Bahorel anywhere in this crowd, then by all means you win.’ He watched as Grantaire scanned the people inside the bar, but Enjolras knew it was in vain. Bahorel had long since left with his first conquest of the night. Sensing his defeat, Grantaire laughed almost to himself.

‘As much as I’d _love_ to play real-life _Where’s Waldo_ here with you all night, I have music to make.’ He turned to leave before shouting over his shoulder. ‘Later, Apollo!’

Enjolras watched Grantaire walk up to the stage, chatting with his fellow band-members, Montparnasse and Feuilly, as they handed him a drink. This was quite honestly the last thing Grantaire needed before playing to a room full of people. If Enjolras knew that, why didn’t his friends? He thought about this for a short while before he was pulled out of his mind; a hand dragging him from his seat. Jehan smiled up at him, clearly unfazed by the resistance his well-natured intervention was met with.

‘Jehan, do we really have to do this? You know I don’t like - ’

‘Argue with me again and I’ll make you wear the scarf.’ Jehan gestured to the floral monstrosity currently residing around his neck.

‘Oh really, and how do you plan on going about that?’

‘Don’t ask. Just obey; it’s better for everyone in question.’ Courfeyrac replied, his dark hair floppy and curled in the dim light of the _Musain._ He shrugged before continuing his strange, puppy-like dance. ‘If you don’t start dancing you’re going to look like more of an idiot than everyone else here, just saying.’

Jehan grabbed Enjolras and forced him to move in time with the music being played by Grantaire’s band. When he finally let go, Enjolras half-heartedly swayed - jumping up and down on cue with everyone else in the crowd. A few songs in, he observed Grantaire. He seemed to have no inhibitions, playing his guitar in the same manner in which he painted - lose and free. He was clearly taking creative liberties in some of the songs, but for once Enjolras didn’t mind. The smile on his face almost made him want to have a good time, although he didn’t quite know why.

Grantaire seemed at ease in the chaos where Enjolras felt out of sorts.

A few songs in, Enjolras felt his awkward movements soften slightly as he acclimatised to the environment. His eyes remained on Grantaire, completely in awe of the man who seemed to know music better than the English language.  Of course, he’d seen and heard him play before but in all honesty, Enjolras had never really been paying much attention.

He moved with ease, a wild grace that was intriguing - almost inviting - to Enjolras.

So when Grantaire returned his gaze, Enjolras didn’t look away. He was too stubborn; too focused on his current train of thought. He unwillingly returned the smile currently set on the other man’s face. And when Grantaire winked in his direction, he certainly didn’t blush in the slightest. _Except he did._ Enjolras was suddenly glad for the inadequate lighting. He felt positively idiotic. He didn’t _like_ Grantaire; he didn’t _like_ anyone for that matter.

Excusing himself from the dance floor, Enjolras sat down in his seat at the bar. He felt hot, flustered in the heat-radiating lights of the bar. _What was he thinking?_  Ordering a glass of water to calm his nerves, Enjolras poured the cool liquid down his throat. It was refreshing, a pleasant contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the room.  The live music had stopped, replaced by a digital monstrosity that did no favours for his headache.

‘You had some serious moves back there, dancing queen.’ It was Grantaire. _Of course._ ‘I thought you left, you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ Enjolras groaned internally before curtly replying. He loathed Courf and Jehan for making him dance; except he didn’t at all. ‘I could say the same thing about you; was that a twitch or were you actually trying to get my attention?’

‘Oh, I think I already had your attention.’ Grantaire chuckled, his lips twitching in amusement. ‘Or did I just imagine you ogling me for the last thirty minutes?’

‘Really? Well what if I told you I was observing the speakers directly behind your head and wondering if I could disintegrate them with the sheer power of my mind?’

‘Well, I don’t know - ’He paused, tilting his head before leaning slightly closer to Enjolras. ‘Do you usually flirtatiously smile at inanimate objects you’d like to disintegrate?’

‘For starters, I don’t ‘flirtatiously’ do anything I -’ Enjolras was cut off by the other man. He sighed in frustration.

‘Oh I know, you smoulder - it’s so much more distracting.’ Grantaire was positively beaming, seemingly happy in his small victory. Enjolras frowned, and made a sound of exasperation as he got up from his chair, ready to leave.

A hand on his arm stopped him from continuing.

‘Hey, don’t go all _Runaway Bride_ on me, Apollo.’ His tone was teasing but his smile was genuine, it reached his eyes; clear and blue. ‘Dance with me?’

‘I don’t dance.’ It was a weak excuse, but also the truth. He’d only done so earlier to please his friends. He ran a hand through his hair as he made his way through the crowd, trying to find Courf and Jehan. Grantaire followed.

‘No, you don’t like to dance. There’s a difference.’ He paused, turning Enjolras to face him with both hands. ‘You’re awkward because you lack the ability to lose control. I could help with that.’

Enjolras contemplated the offer before mentally chastising himself. There was obviously something wrong with him; maybe he was coming down with something? He obviously wasn’t thinking straight to be seriously considering dancing with _Grantaire_.

‘Dance with me.’ This time it wasn’t a question, but a command. He liked this version of Grantaire, the one who seemed in control. He held out a hand, Enjolras merely had to take it.

‘Okay.’ He nodded, quickly joining his hand with Grantaire’s before he could talk himself out of it. He didn’t miss the wild look in the other man’s eyes as he pulled Enjolras onto the dance floor. ‘You know, you’re actually pretty obnoxious.’

‘Coming from you that can only be a compliment.’ Grantaire replied in a quite whisper as he leaned into Enjolras’ space, using the close-contact to his advantage as he began to dance. Enjolras was positively blushing as he began to move, still awkward and forced in his stance. ‘Let go, Apollo. Nothing bad is going to happen; the world will still be the same messed up place it’s always been, I promise.’

Enjolras wasn’t so sure, but he had to admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.


End file.
